Better Together
by Captainofmanyships
Summary: Various FitzSimmons stories, ranging from time at the academy, to up to date one shots. Other agents of shield characters will be included.
1. Chapter 1

OK so, this one is a little different then what I normally do. It takes place before Coulson selected his team and will mostly focus on FitzSimmons, whether that's working together in the academy, or up to date with the most recent episode. This chapter I'm going off two deleted scenes that are on the SHIELD season 1 DVD. Just so you know, all my science terms are based off my high school science classes which I didn't do too hot in, so they may not be one hundred percent accurate. Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1- Farther Together

Fitz looked up startled. His new Chem professor was obviously very unfamiliar with this class. First off, Leo Fitz was the smartest pupil in the class and should not, under any circumstances, be written off as a "teenager", which it appeared he had done. That was professor Moranson's first mistake. His second was partnering him with Jemma Simmons. _That_, that was a mistake. Jemma was twenty-three days younger and completely…he didn't know the word. He'd been waiting months to be partnered up with her, and had been trying his best to seem competitive towards her in everything he did. How else would he get her to talk to him? He wasn't exactly the best people person. His brain was all he had, and he had planned on using it. But the longer she didn't notice, the more he began to dread the idea of having a conversation with her. So, he became closed off. Everything was a contest, and they were never, ever partnered together. Their professors could smell the aggressive science in the air, sometimes literally, and preferred not to blow up the academy by pairing the two. Professor Moranson it seemed was uninformed.

When both Fitz and Simmons remained frozen in place, eyes wide and locked on him he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"FitzSimmons..." He cocked his head. "Hey that actually has quite a ring to it," The class chuckled at his backhanded comment before he continued, "Would you two please move along? I have a class to teach." He raised one eyebrow until Simmons finally apologized quietly to him and moved over to Fitz's table brining her large bag full of textbooks with her.

The unmovable wall between them grew thicker as the professor passed out his instructions on the day's assignment, assuring them that the project would take several days, all of which they had to spend working with their partner. Fitz internally groaned. Of all people… He must have partnered them up because they were the youngest of the class. Of course that's why, they were exceptionally young for the academy, at only seventeen. Fitz was sure the professor thought they would work together.

'Well I have news for him, we don't.' Fitz thought angrily to himself. He glanced over at Simmons, who didn't look much happier than him. Her long acorn brown hair was tied up in a pony tail and she continued to awkwardly pull at it, avoiding Fitz's eyes. He wondered just how much she hated him.

They stood for another few minutes listening to the professor's instructions and tips on their following venture. Normally, Simmons would be elated about such and project, but today, the old and blatantly new shield professor had assigned Leo Fitz as her partner. Of all people, the one who hated her most. She wasn't sure what he didn't like. Not to gloat, but she was brilliant, youngest of her class, exceptionally bright. He was envious. She was sure of that. What else would it be? She'd overheard in the cafeteria that Fitz was excellent in engineering, but was a socially awkward as a hermit.

'Maybe he is a hermit…' She thought about the probability of an Einstein hermit, and quickly realized the professor had finished talking about thirty seconds ago. She was still starring at him, and he'd noticed. She smiled sheepishly, waving uneasily before averting her eyes.

"Samantha?" Samantha Adamns, twenty-five year old SHIELD academy student, looked up instantly at the sound of her professor's voice.

"Yes sir?"

"What's up with Simmons and Fitz? They seem awfully uncomfortable with each other? Do they have some sort of history?" He made a face, "Did they date in high school or something?" Samantha laughed loudly.

"Who FitzSimmons?" She smirked at the strange nick name he'd given the two. "They'd rather die than date I think. Hate each other. Both are super bright kids and…," She paused, mulling over how to explain the two's oddball relationship. "Let's just say they're outwardly cutthroat. Nobody had ever partnered them together for fear that they'll kill each other."

The professor nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, they'd better get used to working together because I'm not budging. They are going to be permanent partners whether they like it or not."

"Good luck, sir," Samantha commented. "Chances are both'll be dead within an hour."

"No, no, no, that's just…no." Fitz let out and exasperated sigh running his hands through his hair. He could not deal with Jemma Simmons much longer.

"Well then what do you suggest, because everything I've mentioned you've shot down in a heartbeat." Her thick British accent filled the air, her tone frustrated. It was clear they both valued their own opinion more than the other's.

"I say we somehow create a positive reaction with the two chemicals and add them from there into the mixture." He says, picking up a few of the hot tables and reaching to plug them in. Jemma scoffed.

"That's ridiculous there's no way that will work."

"Yeah, well that's what you think, I say we give it a try." He replied. Simmons rolled her eyes.

"Why don't you try your idea, and I'll try mine. Whoever creates the correct reaction will dictate our further actions." She suggested grabbing her book bag and throwing it over her shoulder, prepared to win the unfriendly competition.

"Don't waste your time." You could almost hear the sense of accomplishment in his Scottish accent.

"Please. Just you wait." And with that simple response, they set off, equally driven to prevail on top.

A few small explosions and short hours later, neither Fitz nor Simmons had managed to pull of the precise experiment with positive results. Neither had wished to show weakness, however, and refused to ask a professor for advice. It had crossed Simmons' mind to ask Fitz what he was doing, but that would appear as her surrendering, and the thought alone made Simmons strive even harder for perfection. Despite this, she came just under what was required, lacking an imperative key. She looked over at Fitz, who looked just as stuck as she was. She was going to say something. She was determined to at least be acquaintances before leaving the lab, even if she was there all night.

Fitz was at a loss. He was always a star student, Chemistry included, but that was never his strongest point. Engineering, now, if this was in his engineering class, he would easily be the victor of any petty argument Simmons could put up against him. She was a handful, that one. He knew she was struggling just as much as he was in this, but that didn't make it any easier what he wanted to do.

'Just go up and talk to her. Ask her for advice, simple' He tried to reassure himself. Nevertheless, he couldn't work up the courage to speak out loud. He starred, willing his chemical solution to do what he wished, but something was missing. There was something he didn't have, he knew that. It was at this time that Simmons had decided to begin operation acquaintance.

"You know," Her voice startled him and he whipped his head up to face her quickly. "If you just add a little of this," She help up a beaker full of bubbling blue liquid, "It'll create a reaction a little closer to what we want." She walked over and measured the correct amount adding it into his solution. It instantly began to react.

"Huh. I didn't think of that one." He looked up at her, softening his gaze a tad so as not to come off so hostile. She nodded.

"So, maybe we could, I don't know, collaborate a little. Just for today, since we have been paired up. I know it's not ideal, but it looks like you did something here I didn't and yours is coming out a lot closer to what the professor asked for now that I added the same chemicals." She said looking closely into his glass. Fitz nodded quickly, too quickly, and walked over to her station examining her notes.

"Ah! I see what you did here, hold on." He moved around the lab expertly, grabbing a few things as he went, eventually turning back to the table. After a few moments, he stood back, watching proudly as the beaker began to do just what the professor asked for.

"Oh that's brilliant! How did I not think to do that?" She hopped over to him patting his shoulder and flashing a wonderfully bright smile. "I guess we should have done that from the beginning."

"Oh no," He started, "You have to add that at the end I think or-"

"No, not that," Jemma interrupted. "We should have acted more as a team, and not been too stuck up to click." Fitz looked at her surprised she was really admitting she was stuck up.

"Oh. Yeah, guess you're right." He remained silent after that, watching the chemicals bubbling and steaming in the glass.

"Well, I guess I'm going to go back to my dorm since we're done. See you tomorrow, Fitz." She waved, smiled once more, and strolled out the double doors of the lab. It wasn't long before Fitz left too, going back to his bed just to lie on his back, starring at the ceiling for hours, before finally falling asleep.

The professor smirked as he saw the two walk through the doors together in the morning, chatting amicably, and interrupting each other's sentences with excitement. "See, Ms. Adamns, I told you. FitzSimmons, that's what I'm going to call them from now on, now that they're friends." Samantha just laughed, returning to her computers compelling screen, but professor Moranson watched on with pride. He knew these two were going to go far. Farther together than apart.


	2. Chapter 2-Field Assessments

FitzSimmons-Chapter 2

**Hello! Please review and let me know what I can improve on and what you'd like to read in later chapters. I'll take any suggestions and prompts you have. :-) Stay strong FitzSimmons shippers, next episode they actually speak to each other! FYI-This takes place after FitzSimmons' time at the Shield academy, but before they officially joined the team**.

Today was the day Fitz had been dreading for weeks. Today the infamous field assessments. Simmons assured him they'd do fine, everyone else had, so what makes them different. A lot of things, he thought, made them different, but he didn't bring it up to Jemma, she'd just bat down his arguments with a roll of her eyes. So silent he stayed, his appetite wasting away with every hour that passed closer to the dismaying tests. If it were something from Sci Ops, sure, they'd pass with flying colors (probably break a few records while they were at it), but this was not Sci Ops. This was operations. No science involved. Fitz doubted that most of the Operations graduates could even count to ten, all they cared about was muscle, muscle, muscle, and oh, yes, the ever important muscle. This is not where FitzSimmons belonged. But regardless, this is where they'd ended up, on Saturday afternoon, agents prepping the assessment warehouse where the examination would take place. Simmons seemed anxious to get it done, but excited about the prospect of going into the field, and babbled the whole ride over about the "exceptional opportunities" they would encounter once they left their beautiful, pristine laboratory back at the sandbox. The thought brought on further butterflies in Leo's stomach. His immaculate lab was no longer his. Some new agents from the Hub had been brought in to replace them.

"You know Fitz, if we pass the assessment, the odds of sci ops graduates completing the exam will go up by two percent!" Simmons beamed excitedly towards him while rubbing her hands together in anticipation. "I think we'll pass, don't you? I've heard it just requires cardio vascular endurance and muscular strength, which I'll admit we don't have, but it cant be too hard to achieve, just set your mind to it, Fitz, you'll do wonderfully."

Fitz groaned.

"Do we have to do this, Jemma? The lab was fine, wasn't it? Safe, clean, _very _predictable. What if we get strangled by Russians, or stranded in the middle of the ocean, or what if-"

"This is going to be a great experience, trust me. We'll get to see the world, not just the four white walls of the lab. Doesn't that sound nice? We might even see some wild monkeys."

Fitz's eyebrows lifted slightly at the thought of seeing his favorite animal up close in their natural habitat.

"Agent Coulson thought we were the best qualified for his new team, and we should be honored. Not many other people can say that they were personally selected out of hundreds of shield scientists for an elite lineup."

"I know that Jemma, but I don't like leaving the sandbox. It was nice there. Who knows what-or who-we'll have to work with in this new place."

"I know, you hate change, but I promise, this will come out good in the end, you'll see." She reassured patting his knee and grinning free of worry. She turned back to the window and talked happily about their upcoming jobs. Soon, they'd arrived at their destination, five minutes early.

"Both of you should find the assessments difficult, at best, but I think you can both pull it off. You're smart, smartest we've had come through here, and I'm sure you can manage through less than a mile of "field work", if you can call it that. Over the years they've slacked on the sci ops exam, I think you guys get skinnier every year, do you ever eat?" A large muscular man with a white beard and matching mustache greeted them at the entrance of the warehouse. Agent Sloan was his name, level seven, worked for shield for fifteen years. His eyes had rolled in annoyance when Fitzsimmons had said they were level five.

"I swear, they advance faster every year!" He'd mumbled under his breath. Apparently, he wasn't found of every year since….whenever he'd joined shield.

"Now, you two will go separately, ladies first, and will meet back up when both of you are through. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes, at the most, so don't worry about time. You get in, do what you have to, and that's that. Welcome to the field. Any questions?"

Yes! Fitz wanted to shout, but he knew no matter how many questions he asked he would never be prepared for the horror that was about to occur. And boy was he right.

Simmons, like the chap had instructed, went first. Fitz sat in a very boring grey cubicle while it was her turn, counting ceiling tiles and trying to imagine what life would be like outside of the lab. He'd almost forgotten…. Simmons was probably right about them needing some adventure, but he was stubborn, and also afraid, so he stuck to his opinion like glue. Leo drummed his fingers on the coffee table that flanked the couch, wishing away every minute between him and the end of the day. What was taking so long? Agent Sloan had promised it would only take twenty minutes each, and Fitz had been sitting so long his whole left leg was falling asleep. He tapped it energetically to relieve himself of the odd tingling, but ended up looking more like an overly enthusiastic bull. Another thirty minutes passed before he heard any sign of human life outside his small prison. The door burst open quickly, revealing a sweaty agent Sloan, who looked as if he were about to pass out. He lifted his finger and pointed at fitz, chest heaving tiredly.

"YOU-," He gasped for air. "YOU-YOUR UP!" His arm collapsed at his side and he stumbled into the wall, leaning into the doorframe for support.

"Is everything alright sir?" Fitz asked standing weakly, his leg still aching from sitting for so long.

The agent, shook his head giving a sarcastic laugh.

"Oh yes," he mimicked in an awful Scottish accent. "Quite alright!" He spun around so his back faced fitz and his finger lifted up pointing out the door. "You. Out. Now."

This ought to be fun, Fitz thought.

"Ok, remember what I told you, do your best, don't get blown to smithereens, and…well, I guess we'll figure that part out when we're done." He mumbled the last part to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose sighing deeply. "Well don't stand around waiting," he declared quickly. "Get your butt out there!" He pushed Fitz into a large, grey warehouse filled with various mats, artificial arbor and shrubbery. He stepped in to the room warily, when suddenly, in a split second gun fire erupted around him.

"Bloody…." He swore under his breath angrily as the first bullet whizzed past his head, barely dodging out of the way in time. He glanced around at his surroundings, trying to find cover as he raced through the tangle of tree braches and various other synthetic plant life, projectiles still buzzing around his ears. He was going to die, in a field assessment of all places! Drowning would be better than this, he thought irritation plainly written across his sweat ridden face. He continued to run/trip through the warehouse when he finally found a log, completely, one hundred percent bullet free. He awkwardly jumped over a few fallen branches and plunged face first into the trunk.

"Ok, ok, don't get blown to bits, don't get blown to bits, I can do it, easy." He uttered to himself panic stricken. They had never taught about combat situations in sci ops. How the heck was he supposed to get out of this?

"Hey, I found one over here!" An unfamiliar voice jolted Fitz out of his daze. Yes! Someone had come to rescue him. This whole thing must be an accident, there must be a malfunction with the guns, it made perfect sense now. Fitz stood up hastily; ready to be free of this hellish place.

"It's me! Over here, I'm ok, I can fix the guns, just get me out of here!" He yelled loudly, hopping over the log and racing toward the men in black jump suits. The men glanced at each other uneasily, and Fitz could see them talking to each other through a comm. system.

"Um, yeah, let's get out of here, one of us is gonna be blown to pieces." He laughed and slapped one of the guards on the shoulder, jokingly. The guards, as if on some sudden command, all reached over and grabbed Fitz, lifting him up into the air and shoved a black bag over his head.

"Hey, hey wait, ow, I can walk through here by myself thanks. Guys!" He squirmed around like a child trying to get out of an angry parents grasp. "Oh, I get it. Security reasons, can't have me snoopin around. That's good, I'll just wait in here then."

And he certainly did wait. It was another five minutes before he felt himself lowered into a chair and the bag was taken off. Fitz looked up to a small dark room, similar to the one he sat in while Simmons went through the assessment. Simmons! How had she done? Had she made it through before the guns began going off? He didn't have time to ask any of the men on guard because as quick as them came in to set him down, they were gone.

Fitz rested in the chair for fifteen long and boring minutes before the door opened to reveal a new face. This man was bulky, bulkier than agent Sloan, and his black hair and matching beard grew long, as if he were a savage caveman. His thick eyebrows appeared to cover his eyes, giving the man a mysterious identity.

"That, my friend," the man said in a thick Russian accent. "Was very, very easy. For us. I can assure you, however, that your time here will not be so enjoyable. Who do you work for? Who are you?" The man asked, staying hidden in the shadows by the door.

"Same as you, mate. Shield. Leo Fitz, level five shield agent. Why am I here, I thought I was fixing the guns?" Fitz complained, straining his tied hands to itch a spot on his cheek.

"I Do not work for Shield."

"Oh? Ok, so, what FBI? CIA?"

"I work for a man you will never see, nor hear, because you will be dead before he gets here in the morning."

Fitz's stomach dropped. Maybe he'd been wrong the whole time! Maybe, while he'd been in the assessment program, the KGC had taken over the shield facility and killed everyone inside. Jemma! She was still in there.

"Where's Simmons, is she ok?" He asked tensely, fearing the worst.

"I don't care about your petty friends, they're all dead, and you'll be too, soon."

No, Fitz refused to believe it.

"Is this some sort of eagle code, is this a drill?"

"Is that what you people call it? So American…no, this is no drill." He chuckled softy. "But by the end of the night, you'll be wishing it was."

"Simmons is at the hub isn't she? Or the Triskelion? That's where she is, she's in DC at the triskelion. Or the sandbox? Did she go back to the sandbox?"

"Agent Fitz, I could care less about "the sandbox", I need intel. Information. What do you know about Fury?"

"He's the head of Shield, obviously, everyone knows that."

"Yes, but where is his office?"

"I'm assuming at the triskelion, seeing as that's Shield's main base and all."

"And where-" He stopped abruptly, nodded twice, and turned around to leave. Fitz was alone, again. Where was he? He didn't know. Was Simmons even still alive? He couldn't bear to think about that now. So he sat, silent, heart beating faster than it may have ever before. He was going to die. A horrible, painful death. They were going to torture the life out of him. He hung his head tiredly, wishing it all to be over.

The lights flashed on, Fitz snapped his head up, realizing he'd dozed off.

"Untie him." It was agent Sloan! Alive, he looked fine, unhappy, angry, but completely healthy. Five agents rushed forward to untie his bounds, and he stood immediately after.

"Come with me." He turned around and marched out of the room, Fitz coming after, squinting in the bright lights. They entered a room, a white projector sheet covering the back wall and Simmons sitting in the far left corner.

"Jemma! Oh thank God, I thought they'd killed you." He rushed over to her, immediately seeing her leg propped up and an ice pack on her knee. "What happened? What did they do?"

Simmons grimaced.

"There is no 'they' Fitz."

He cocked his head.

"The Russians, Jemma, what did they do?"

She shook her head.

"There aren't any Russians, Fitz. That was the assessment. We were supposed to get the other side of the bunker uninjured and un-captured." She pressed her fingers to the side of her forehead. "Which, from what I'm gathering, we _both_ failed to do."

Ah, now this, this made sense.

A small "Oh," Was all he could manage.

"OH? OH! That's all you've got to say for yourselves? I saw you two and thought, 'Wow, they look noodle-like and frail. I doubt they'll do too well in the assessment'. But no one, NO ONE, has ever failed as _miserably _as you two! I can't believe you didn't even work out before you came!" He hollered at them red faced before sinking, exhausted, into a chair. He grumbled some more picking up a white remote and clicking on the overhead. A small chart with their scores came up, it was not good.

"Simmons, as you can see, you did better than Fitz scoring a four out of one hundred for actually managing to run _away _from the enemy. Until you tripped over air." He snorted. Of everything that had happened, this was almost amusing to him. _Almost. _

_ "_That's what happened to me knee." Jemma whispered in Fitz's ear as Sloan changed to Fitz's details.

"Fitz, you got a one out of one hundred, for actually moving in the arena, for that I congratulate you. I considered giving you nothing, since you gave away base locations, Fury's locations, your name, other agent's names, and a slew of other things skilled interrogationers are bound to pick up on. Thankfully for you, one of my co-workers was amused by your performance and insisted I give you one point for entertainment."

FitzSimmons couldn't, for the first time, think of anything to say.

"I called your new boss, and he seemed adamant that he wanted you on his team anyway, despite my warnings. So, you're still on the team."

Simmons breathed a sigh of relief, laughing nervously.

"I was worried, for a minute. Does this mean we won't be allowed to leave a lab at the new base?"

"It's up to your boss. But, I doubt he'll be keeping you locked up in a plane for the remainder of the year."

"A plane, sir?" Simmons inquired, wondering why a lab would be located on a plane. How uncomfortable.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard. Your boss, agent Coulson, he doesn't work on ground. You and the rest of your team will be living off a private plane. The luxury these new kids get…" He murmured unhappily, pushing the chair back and standing up.

"Off you go, you two, I don't want to see you anymore, my brain hurts."

"Yes sir," They replied in unison, following his actions and standing up.

A few minutes later, and when they were back on the road, both Jemma and Fitz were buckled up and heading to the hotel to grab their belongings and head to their new "base".

Simmons glanced over at Fitz and laughed.

"You know, of course we'd be the first to fail the assessment."

Fitz shook his head stubbornly.

"You said it would be easy," He whined.

"Well I clearly didn't know what I was saying." She patted his knee, excitement flooding her face again. "Oh, this is so exciting! A plane, we'll see how that goes. I wonder what the lab will be like. Do you think they'll have everything the one at the sandbox did?"

"No, of course not! Where would they fit all that on a plane?"

And that is how the rest of the trip went, the two blatantly unaware that back at the warehouses location, the agents there were watching and re-watching the two's field assessment, with popcorn and cokes being passed around.

**That's it. Please review? Please...:-) **


	3. Chapter 3- New Years Resolution

**Wow. It's been a month since I last updated. You know how the Holidays are. And also the flu...yeah, that was fun. Anyway, I've written a small one shot of Fitz's time in the academy around New Years. Please review as a late Christmas present to me, and leave a story suggestion of anything you'd like to see. Doesn't have to be strictly FitzSimmons together, but should include at least one of them. Happy late holidays and may the odds be ever in your favor. :-) **

New Years Resolution

Leopold Fitz was unhealthily attached to his dorm desk, at least, according to his mother. Hours and hours he'd sit, fiddling with a new gadget or gizmo until it worked flawlessly.

"Leopold Fitz!" His mother would holler over the phone during their rare chats. "Don't you dare spend another second sitting in the blasted dorm. You get out and make friends!"

Over course, as most young boys do, he didn't listen to her. He loved his mother dearly, she had worked so hard when he was young to give him everything she could. Without his father around, his mother had felt obligated to provide him with the best to make up for it. Being the poor woman she was, things like Christmas presents often feel through the cracks, much to her dismay. But, she had always been there for him, she'd always listened to his science lectures late at night when he couldn't sleep, always encouraged him when no one else would. But of course she did, she was him mom. And for this exact reason, sometimes he didn't listen. Plus, he was just about as socially coordinated as a drunk giraffe, so he didn't feel confidant about making friends. Who needed friends anyway, when you've got gadgets? Leo Fitz did. He didn't want to admit it, but he did. He'd felt more alone than ever since arriving at SHIELD and continued to seclude himself in the darkness of his room, his ever-growing laundry pile his only friend. He tried, he really did, but no one seemed to enjoy drunk giraffes, he didn't blame them, he didn't appreciate them either.

Today, was nothing different. Well, it was a little different, but only because it was New Years Eve. A brand new year-almost. Other than the date, nothing changed. Fitz sat at his crowded counter, building a knock-out gun he'd been perfecting for a while. It still wasn't right.

At ten thirty he decided to leave his dorm for a light snack across the hall at the vending machine. Boy, was that a mistake.

He opened his door, struggling to squeeze through the small crack he could make without moving all his clothes on the floor. Instantly he felt uncomfortable. The blinding white lights seemed brighter now than this morning, and he squinted trying to make out the scene before him. Couples. Couples everywhere. He almost gagged. He slowly moved away from the door inching through the hall to the stairwell which also held the machine. It was a rough trip. He almost tripped over a pair of _slightly _intoxicated people. Twice. He, in this moment, swore never to have more than one drink a night. A loud crash and the booming sounds of laughed erupted from his left. He was sure he could see a wisp of smoke emerge from the bottom of their door. These people were going to have quite a mess to clean up in the morning. A few more explosions and repulsive couples later, he arrived at the vending machine. Two young men stood at the machine laughing at a joke one of them had said.

"Man, this is great," One of the boys, a blonde lanky young man said to the other. "It's nice to have friends on New Years, you know. I've just never had that before. I guess I was kinda a loner at my old place."

The other man nodded as he grabbed their drinks from the machine.

"I feel ya. It's great having you guys to hang out with all the time. I think this is the most fun I've had in my entire life." He added, clapping the blonde on the back. They strode off down the hall, continuing their jokes and foolish play. Fitz stared after. What was it like, he wondered, to have friends like that? And then, it hit him. His New Year's Resolution. He was going to make friends. And he was going to _not _be a drunk giraffe!

He paid for his drink, a diet Doctor Pepper (they were out of the regular kind), and raced back to his room, ignoring the couples this time. He spent the next hour and a half looking up ways to make friends and tone down social awkwardness. And then, midnight. The bells outside the school rang merrily, celebrating the new year. The explosions, inside the building and out, rumbled with thunderous applause. The sounds of hooting students bounced around his walls. He hardly noticed. He was too busy making his declaration. He would make friends.

And boy did he.

Little did he know, that two flights down and four doors over, Jemma Simmons was making a similar resolution. She wanted a best friend, not just someone who would use her for her homework answers and test scores. She wanted true friendship. She certainly got it, because in the next year, Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz would meet, hate each other, then in a dramatic twist of fate, be paired together and instantly realize, they were made to be best friends. As you can see, it was bound to be the best year of their lives.

**Ah, I love FitzSimmons. They almost literally own my heart. Hope you enjoyed. REVIEW PLEEEEEEAAAAASE! **


	4. Chapter 4-She's Just A Kid

**Hello All! Sorry for the late update, I wrote this on Friday and forgot to post it. Please review and offer me some writing prompts. I need more ideas. :-) Have a wonderful week! **

"She's just a kid."

May had said those words almost exactly a year ago, as she watched Simmons, fighting to find a cure for the disease she had concocted. Now she found herself saying it again.

"She's not. She's a full grown adult, May. I think she can handle whatever we throw at her." Coulson replied.

May stared at him. This time last year, Jemma Simmons had been a bubbly ball of happiness. Always positive, always bright. She had been a part of a rare percentage of still-innocent Shield agents. She was doing what she loved, and was happy because of it.

"I know you're worried, but Simmons is Strong-"

"And I don't doubt that, Phil. But, I don't want to put too much pressure on her. With Fitz still recovering, she's fragile."

"We can't treat her like glass. She does best under stress."

May nodded, agreeing.

"That may be true, but she's been forced to change enough recently. Shouldn't we just let her be?"

Coulson squinted at her curiously. He unbuttoned his suit and sat at his desk.

"This isn't about her, is it?"

May averted his eyes quickly.

"Of course it is."

"No, it's not. She reminds you of you. Young, happy, innocent, doing what you love. Until one day, somebody asked too much of you, and you were sent to Bahrain," Coulson said, leaning back in his chair. "Don't bother arguing, May, I know I'm right."

May glared, crossing her arms in irritation.

"I don't want her to go through what I had to. If she has the chance to stay fresh and uncorrupted, I want to give her that." She added, remembering the horror that was Bahrain. Her commanding officer giving her the "perfect" mission to up her game, her level in Shield. He'd given her the option to pass it along, but had spoken so highly of the opportunity, she would have been stupid to pass it down. And while the mission did up her statues, she'd never been the same since.

"We are. If you know anything about Jemma, it's that she wants to work. She's not going to tolerate sitting around the base doing nothing because you want to keep her sane. I know how you feel; everything that happens to these kids is my fault. If I had noticed Ward was Hydra before we did, I could have saved Fitz. I'd do anything to go back and fix that. But we can't. It's the past, and you yourself told me once we can't live in the past. We have to move on, and things are going to be different, but that's just our reminder that we can't change what's already happened. Whether you like it or not, Simmons has already changed. One of her closest friends tried to kill her, and now she's struggling to reconnect with someone who she's taken for granted for years. She had to grow up sometime. Everyone does."

May sighed deeply.

"I feel like I should be doing more to protect them. Skye thinks she can handle herself, but one of these days she's going to lose her head. I don't know what else to teach her. I just-there should be more that I can do," She confessed.

"I think it's time that both of us start to see them as capable adults rather than innocent children. They've matured enough over the past year that I trust them with their own lives." Coulson offered softly.

"I know. I do too. I just can't help but feel like we're putting too much on them. But you're right. They can handle themselves." She surrendered, letting Coulson win. She soon left to continue on with her daily routine, leaving Coulson alone. He'd let Ward and Hydra change these people. And if he could have it his way, they'd never do it again.

As the weeks went by, as Skye was kidnapped, and FitzSimmons were forced into the inhuman temple, and as Trip gave his life to save them, Coulson and May knew, they would never be the same "kids" who climbed onto the bus nervous and excited. They'd never be those innocent agents who been transformed by Hydra. They had seen death, and pain, and loss like never before. There was no going back. There was only moving forward.


End file.
